


Sacrifice

by Resoan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:11:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resoan/pseuds/Resoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen feels guilty for allowing the Herald to distract the Elder One, even if it meant the safety of most from Haven. He can’t help but wonder if it’s because he knows the Herald’s value, or if his feelings had factored in to create a big, tangled knot in his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rayeliann](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayeliann/gifts).



> This was originally written on tumblr for Rayeliann.

The tunnels under the Chantry were darker and more dank than Cullen might have imagined, given that they were something of a pilgrimage to be taken during a nicer part of the year, but he held a torch to help light the way as Chancellor Roderick stumbled forward with only the unknown mage as support.

Footsteps echoed behind him as they moved: frightened civilians and shopkeepers, those few Chantry clerics and laysisters who had dared back the heretical Inquisition when the Chantry had floundered without its Divine. So many people had died when this  _Elder One_  had descended upon Haven with his army of loyal mages, and Cullen could only despair that they hadn’t managed to save more - there was only so much to be done with a place like Haven against such an assault, though.

The Herald had stood tall, however: as gleaming and brilliant as the mark on her hand, and if Cullen weren’t currently fearing for her life, he may have allowed himself a moment of admiration. Despite being a mage, she could see the danger free mages would pose, and beyond  _that_ , she could see the templars’ predicament as readily as her own as a mage, formerly of the Circle. It was rare to engage in conversation with someone who believed as she did, who came so very close to sharing  _his_  beliefs, but then, Cullen stumbled just slightly over a larger stone in his path, and the mage flicked his gaze back over his shoulder as the light from Cullen’s torch fell from the path ahead - even so, Chancellor Roderick did not falter, even with the wound bleeding through the mage’s fingertips.

“This way,” Chancellor Roderick murmured, Cullen only just hearing the whisper thanks to the echo of the hollowed-out pathway. The walls had widened until it appeared they were heading through a cavern, though Cullen had to wonder how much longer until they reached the surface - the longer they took, the more of a chance that the Herald would perish at the hands of the Elder One, and that prospect left him feeling peculiarly hollow.

His first priority had to be the safety of those he was leading, though: he couldn’t afford to be distracted when all their lives depended on his success, nearly as much as the Herald’s.

He nearly breathed a sigh of relief when the mouth of the cavern opened up onto the mountainside, the trodden path covered with snow. Chancellor Roderick inhaled sharply at the change in temperature, and Cullen waved the mage onward as he stood off to the side and waited for all those following to pass him by. 

The Herald’s companions were the last to appear, and when Cullen caught Vivienne’s gaze, she merely inclined her head before they followed after the rest of the group. What followed seemed to happen in something of a blur; Vivienne sent a signal into the air with her staff once they were far enough up the mountain, and within moments, the trebuchet had sent up a boulder in response. 

At first, his heart was light: almost giddy at the notion that this Elder One would be defeated once and for all, but then, it was heavy, and weighed down in the pit of his chest.  _What_  had he been thinking? How would the Herald survive this? A trip to the Fade was fantastical enough, but an  _avalanche_  surging downward on her head from all angles? 

It took a few moments to calm himself, to attempt at reasoning away the decision that had been made already, but even then, he was planning a way to search for her - the Inquisition could hardly move forward without her…could it?

What remained of the Inquisition set up camp along defensible wall of stone, evergreens spread thin through the area and coating the land with a grey-green layer of needles. Leliana was already speaking with Josephine, and Cullen exchanged a look with Cassandra before approaching. The rug had just been swept out from under them, and they needed a plan - something,  _anything_ , to get them on their feet again before they were pinned down and as good as dead.

“We should look for the Herald,” Cassandra immediately spoke when Cullen was within earshot, and while he agreed wholeheartedly, he could see the grim expression cross Leliana’s typically stoic features.

“Very well. Let us arrange a search party. Those of us who remain can tend to the wounded and try to plan our next move.” Leliana’s voice betrayed a confidence Cullen sincerely doubted she felt, but she had to appear strong - the Inquisition had just suffered a defeat, but getting past it would require celerity and strength of spirit, and being pessimistic would not help.

“I shall see if any of the Herald’s companions wish to join me,” Cassandra remarked, though she paused as Cullen spoke up.

“I will go as well.” It hadn’t been blurted out, surely, but it was a surprise to him even coming from his own lips as it had.

“Very well. I will be but a moment.” 

The Warden, Blackwall, Cole, and the Qunari volunteered to help while both Solas and Vivienne insisted they were of better use healing and setting broken limbs. And so began the long, tedious task of finding a glowing needle in a snowy haystack.

Even with the armor and furs he wore, Cullen’s fingers were numb as he searched: turned over innumerable stones and stepped around countless boulders in the hope she might have stumbled there and staggered into the snow. Those wasted moments of failure began to weigh on him, though; had he been more clever, or stronger, or more prepared, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

His forehead scrunched in concentration, his jaw set tightly, and his heart sank a little more into the hollow of his chest with each belabored step in the deep snow. In these conditions, if the Elder One hadn’t killed her, the snow and cold just might. A groan of frustration forced its way through his lips as he raked a hand back through his frost-covered hair, though he pressed onward: determined to at least find a body if nothing else.

Memories of their conversations came unbidden to him as he moved: her laughter, the sly slant of her eyes, the wry humor and not-quite flirtatious comments that had him fighting back blushes. Now wasn’t the time, though, even if he were finally beginning to realize his association with the Herald was more than simply due to their shared affiliation with the Inquisition. 

Just as his hope seemed to flag even more, though, he heard a quiet groan - one that, distinctly, was not his own. His steps hurried, and his heart raced when he finally found her, knees buried beneath the snow where she sat back on her heels. “I found her!” Cullen called loudly, his hands hurriedly reaching for the furred pauldrons spread across his shoulders to instead drape over her own. 

Her skin was cold as ice, and she blinked slowly, disbelievingly at him before he slipped an arm under her knees and the other under her shoulders. 

“Thank the Maker!” Cassandra’s voice carried to where Cullen was now turning, Hadynne’s eyes closing as exhaustion easily took hold and lulled her to sleep. If anyone saw the color rise on Cullen’s neck from how the crown of Hadynne’s head fell gently below his jaw, it was not mentioned from the relief of finding the Herald alive and in-tact.


End file.
